I Wish
by mercbella
Summary: Bella moves back to Forks after a horrible accident involving her mother. Can a certain someone heal her heart and convince her that it was not her fault? AU
1. Chapter 1

**hi guys! chapter one of my new story! i know "it's too late" has not been updated in forever, i've got no good excuses for that. i hope to concentrate on this one first and may go back to that one. But thank you everyone, new and old readers!**

**enjoy!!!  
**

CHAP 1

I awoke to the sound of loud banging coming from somewhere outside. Apparently my mother had moved on from pottery and had decided to pursue carpentry for this month's hobby. My mother, Renee, was notorious for changing her mind about things. One day she was a vegetarian; the next, all she ate was meat. It was annoying, not to mention costly as she spent most of her pay on buying new materials for whatever she was doing. I, on the other hand was in my junior year of college, which coupled with an after school job at the local deli, didn't leave me much time for socialising with other kids my age. I also had a babysitting job which meant I was always busy. You could say I had it hard. I, on the other hand found my busy schedule incredibly soothing. I know it sounds crazy but I had a good reason. My mother's never ending stream of no-good, lazy, filthy asshole boyfriends who spent most nights (and most of her pay) at our apartment. It wasn't a great arrangement; I had tried to talk my mother out of her desire to find a man, but either she couldn't see past their faults, or she could and she didn't care. I hoped it was the first one. But I knew it was the latter. I guess she just couldn't bear being alone. I just wished she'd think about me first. Especially because of what would happen because of it.

"Bella!" my mother called from the bathroom. It was a few nights later and I was sitting on the floor, leaning on the couch in my pyjamas, watching one of those boring and ultra predictable crime shows. It was nearly eight o'clock on a Saturday night and I was staying in. Well that's what my mother thought anyway. If she knew what I was really up to she'd lose it. My friend, Kat was coming over and we were going to watch movies, eat junk, and best of all, get high, one of our favourite things to do. And my mother knew nothing about it. She didn't really care what I did anyway. It may be mean to speak of my mother like that but that's what she was like. She was incredibly flighty and dare I say it, a little bit mentally challenged. We didn't talk much either. I guess because I still blamed her for leaving my father, Charlie a few years back. She tells me it was because she didn't love him anymore. Basically she traded my kind, caring dad who would do anything for us for a bunch of dirt bags. I don't get it.

"Bella!" my mother called again, louder this time.

"What?" I yelled back, still focused on the television screen.

"Can you come here? I need you to do something for me."

I sighed and walked into the bathroom. "A please would have been nice," I grumbled.

"What do you think?" she asked me, completely ignoring what I just said and twirling around in front of me. She was getting ready for a date with yet another one of her idiots conquests. Dave, I think this one was called. I honestly have no idea where she finds these people. It blows my mind sometimes.

I critically inspected her outfit. A long, black dress that softly draped over her hips and flowed down her long legs, hair curled up, black high heels, and just a touch of makeup. I had to admit, my mother looked good. Good for her age at least.

"It looks good," I told her, willing her date to hurry up. I wanted out.

"Just good?"

"You look really great, Mom. Really," I told her, rolling my eyes. I wanted to get back to my show. We went through this routine about three times a week and we always said the same thing.

She eyed me through the mirror. _Here it comes_, I thought.

"Bella, honey, you really should cut your hair. Don't you think it's getting a little long?"

I fingered a lock of my hair. Chocolate brown, wavy and extremely thick, I loved my hair. And I did not in any way want a haircut. True it was halfway down my back but it was the way I liked it.

I sighed. "No Mom, I like it like this. Remember I've told you like, a thousand times and you never listen." She really didn't. It pissed me off. In fact, around her, I was pissed off most of the time.

She looked at me for a bit longer and opened her mouth to say something but I guess the expression on my face stopped her.

"Alright Bella," she said softly. "I just forget you're not a little girl anymore. You're seventeen."

The doorbell rang. She hesitated but then, surprising me, she leant forward and placed a kiss on my forehead.

"Love you, Bella. I'll be home later." And then she was out the door.

Weird. My mother never did stuff like that. I couldn't remember the last time she kissed me. But I pushed it out of my mind and concentrated on me. I was going to ring Kat and tell her to come on over. We were going to have fun tonight.

A few hours later and Kat and I were floating on a cloud of bliss. That is, we had smoked as much pot as we could handle and were now watching some romance movie. Well, it was on in the background. So was the CD player which was playing Crowded House (one of my mother's favourite bands). An empty bottle of vodka lay on the ground. We were lying on the couch giggling hysterically and trying to wrestle each other onto the ground. Naturally I was winning. I may not look that strong, but I am. She was clearly out of it and couldn't stop laughing which meant I could give her one push and she'd be face down the in plate of nachos I'd made earlier. We were so busy laughing I didn't hear the phone until the last minute. I reached out to pick it up.

"Bella? Bella?" It was my mother. I guess she sounded worried but I couldn't tell. Doped up remember?

"Hey Mom," I tried not to slur my words. "How's the date?" I giggled and bit my lip. _Keep it together, Bella. _

"Bella, honey, I need you to come pick me up. I'm on Albert Street outside the bank."

"What happened? You get stood up?" I asked her, still trying to hold back the giggles. Kat reached out and grabbed the phone.

"Hey Mrs. Charlie Swan. What's new with you, honey-poo?" Obviously she had drunk more then her fair share of vodka. I grabbed the phone back and tried to focus. I wasn't going to let her ruin my night. Kat and I were just getting started.

"No can do, mother dearest. Get someone else. I'm sick of running around after you." And I pressed END. I hung up.

When I think about how I could have hung up on my mother when she needed me, I can't even think straight. I feel like throwing up. Or tearing out my hair. Or grabbing a razor and-

But I don't.

The police came about six in the morning. Kat and I were sprawled on the floor, the TV and music still blaring. I heard a knock at the door and stumbled to the door, thinking my mother had forgotten her key. It wouldn't have been the first time. They told me how she had been found on the road. Some drunk driver had run her over as she was crossing the street to call a cab. And they'd left her there. I didn't cry. I wouldn't let myself. Kat cried her little eyes out and left saying sorry after sorry after sorry. The police took me to the morgue where I identified her and a nice woman helped me organise her affairs. The funeral was a few days later. Only three people turned up. The priest, me, and my father. Charlie had come to take me back with him. I was going back to Forks, Washington to live with my father. I hadn't been back for years. It was what I'd always wanted. Only there was one thing missing. My mother.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a week since I had arrived in Forks and I was due to begin school the next day. I hadn't left the house since I had arrived. I hadn't even left my room except to go to the bathroom. I was a mess. My hair was knotty and had enough grease in it to cook a happy meal, I hadn't eaten much for days, and I hate to admit it, but I knew I smelt terrible. But I didn't care. My mother was dead. And it was entirely my fault. Who really cared about me?

In the end, it was Charlie's face that made me do it. The night before I was due to begin school, I wandered downstairs wondering how I could convince Charlie to let me stay home a bit longer. Being sick might do it. And anyway, it wasn't as if I needed to pretend to be sick as my physical appearance wasn't too crash hot and I had lost a few pounds from not eating.

He was in the lounge room. He had taken to sitting on the armchair in front of the window and spent his time looking out into the forest beyond our backyard. I knew he was a sports fanatic, but this week, I hadn't heard the TV on at all. And it was my fault.

"Hey Dad," I said softly from the doorway.

A few seconds later he spoke. "Bella…"

I wondered what he was thinking. If he hated me for what I did. Like I hated myself. I could feel the tears start to form and however much I wanted not to, I couldn't stop the tears from starting to flow. Charlie looked at me and I could see the tears glistening in his eyes too.

He simply opened his arms and I ran into them. We cried together for two hours straight. It was the first time I could remember us being in sync. We had both loved Renee. We had both lost Renee. Only this time we had each other.

I opened my eyes the next morning and discovered that although it was overcast outside, thankfully it wasn't raining. Great. At least I wouldn't spend my first day at school looking like a drowned cat. I took a quick shower and let my hair air dry into long, loose waves and threw it up in a ponytail and then put on a pair of jeans, my boots, and a forest greet sweatshirt. I knew it would be cold outside, but I didn't really have any warm clothes. I spied Charlie's old black jacket and threw it on. Since my mother's death, I had lost that sense of caring what other people thought of me. It was actually kind of refreshing. I missed my mother, but somehow her death had put things into perspective for me. I just wanted to get through high school with good grades; the social factor I wasn't interested in. Friends drag you down, I reminded myself. Kat hadn't made contact with me after that night. She didn't even bother coming to the funeral. I promised myself I would not be a burden on Charlie and had decided to go job-hunting after school to make some extra cash. I had spent all my savings on my mother's funeral.

Charlie was letting me use his old Chevy truck. It was incredibly slow, but it suited me. I knew I wouldn't be going out much besides school, work, and the grocery store, so I didn't care too much. The only thing was it was kind of conspicuous, and the whole idea was that I wanted to remain inconspicuous. Kind of hard though when you're driving a massive old truck around. I planned to buy a car when I had saved enough and had even checked the bus routes but I didn't much relish the idea of riding with a bunch of junior high students.

It was easy to find the way to the high school. It was just off the highway and didn't look anything like my old high school. A bunch of dark blue buildings clustered together, surrounded by trees. I drove into the parking lot slowly and found a park. Teenagers milled about, greeting each other with high fives and shouts. I tried to go as slow as possible to quieten down the sound of the engine roaring but it was no use.

"Nice truck," a girl spat at me sarcastically, as I made my way over to the administration building. I ignored her. I could feel eyes on me as I walked through the parking lot so I sped up which of course made me slip on a wet patch. A few giggles rang out, but I was surprised when a hand grasped mine and helped me up. I looked up to see a friendly face looking back at me. A boy, average height, average build.

"Hi, I'm Mike Newton," the average boy said, smiling at me.

I gave him a quick smile and began to walk away. "Bella Swan," I told him. I ignored him when he asked me where I was going.

The receptionist was nice. She gave me a copy of my timetable and directions to my classroom. The best thing about her was that she didn't ask questions. I was grateful for that.

I was at my locker when it happened. People were walking past talking and laughing. The first bell hadn't rung yet so the hallway was full of students. I was completely oblivious, my head stuck in my locker trying to focus on getting through the day, when I heard my name mentioned by the same girl who had laughed at me when I fell over.

"Bella Swan," I heard her say. "Apparently she killed her mom back in Phoenix or something. Total psycho." My heart began to race and to my disgust I began to cry. Fuck. Not thinking straight, I slammed my locker shut and ran head first into someone standing behind me, which knocked me backwards onto the floor. The girl and her friends burst out laughing. I was so upset I didn't know what to do. I hurriedly got up from the floor and managed to croak out a strangled "sorry" to the poor guy I'd run into. He was probably laughing too hard to hear me. I avoided eye contact with everyone and with my nose running and tears still running, I ran outside into the cool Forks air hoping for someone to run me over. Or a bolt of lightening to strike me. Anything to get me away from my own personal hell.


	3. Chapter 3

I sat outside in the freezing cold air, huddled against the side of one of the buildings. The tears had subsided and now the familiar feeling of anger had taken over. Who was that bitch to say such horrible things about me? I knew that she knew I could hear her, along with the rest of the entire population of Forks High, but I had no idea what I had done to make her hate me so much. I took out a cigarette and lit up, feeling the ache inside me replaced by the soothing feel of smoke. I had taken up smoking the day after Mom had died. I felt like rebelling against someone. Mom? No, she was dead. It didn't matter. I just needed to focus on something other than the gnawing pain I could feel from the guilt.

The bell had rung a couple of minutes ago. I decided to miss my first class. I looked at my timetable. English. Who needs that anyway? I sat for a while, chain smoking, my mind slowly going blank from the cold and the smoke. I had finally succeeded. Maybe if I stayed like this, I would become invisible. Or maybe not.

A flicker out of the corner of my eye brought me out of my revelry. I glanced up and saw a guy staring at me about a hundred metres away. I couldn't see him that clearly but I could definitely tell he was looking at me. I would've looked away; I wanted too desperately – but I was unprepared for when my face flushed (how was that possible? It was freezing!) and my heart sped up. It was the way he stared, like he had seen something unbelievably interesting, something you couldn't look away from, no matter how much you wanted to. I knew because I felt the same way. I stared back, straight into his golden eyes; my fingers tightened around my cigarette, my hair whipping my face in the breeze.

And then the bell rang for second period, the doors opened and students rushed out, their voices ringing in what was once dead silence, a solid line of people in front of me, obscuring my view from the guy I had just had a full – on two minute stare contest with.

The people passed; I craned my neck looking for him. He was gone. I slumped back down again, remembering to hide my butts with a clump of dirt. I was completely stunned at my reaction. I had never acted that way before in front of a guy. I wasn't completely modest; sure, back home a couple of guys had taken an interest in me, but never before had I reciprocated like that. I had completely stared at him with no shame, fuck, what was I thinking? Obviously all that cold air and smoke had gone to my head. Stuff him, I thought, he's probably one of the jerks who laughed at me and has now gone to report back to the bitch about poor little Bella who was crying.

I promised myself to think nothing of it and made myself begin walking to Maths. I made a quick detour to the bathroom to wash out my mouth and face. Ugh! My face was pale from the wind, but my eyes were reddened and my hair completely windblown all over the place. Stuff it, I thought and continued to class.

Maths was uneventful. I sat down the back to avoid any prying eyes. It didn't work. Everyone just turned around and rudely stared until the teacher, Mr. Varner got angry and gave everyone but me detention. I inwardly smiled. Mr. Varner and I would get along fine.

I noticed the girl next to me, short, skinny with pale white skin and dark short, spiky hair try to get my attention. I looked the other way and ignored her. Friends equal relationships. I wanted nothing to do with them. As soon as the bell rang, I jumped out and ran out of the class before anyone could even pack up their things.

Break. I smoked again. Went to the bathroom. Avoided the cafeteria.

My next two classes, Geography and Spanish played out the same. People stared, I ignored. The only different was that two guys tried to hit on me. I politely told them I wasn't interested. I hoped they wouldn't ask again.

Lunch finally arrived and I was free to escape once again. I debated between sitting in my spot next to building C, but was dissuaded when I saw it was raining heavily. I settled on the truck. With the heater turned on high, I took my coat off and fluffed out my hair, trying to maintain some semblance of normality. I had packed myself a ham sandwich this morning and an apple. Alas, I had finished all my cigarettes. I made a mental note to pick some up when I went job hunting this afternoon. I wasn't that hungry so I ate half the sandwich and chucked the rest out.

Alone with nothing but my thoughts in the warm cabin, the windows shut tightly against the howling wind and rain outside, I finally gave into my thoughts. Mom, fucking Kat, the pot, the vodka, shit even those shitty nachos I made, the police, the morgue, the coffin, the funeral. Fuck it was all so fucking in my face I couldn't handle it. I punched the steering wheel again and again drawing blood, but it was never enough. I sobbed, I cried, I just let it all go as I curled into the warm, tobacco smelling car seat and cried for my Mom.

And then I looked out the window and saw a figure standing a few yards away. I expected them to go when I saw them but they continued to stand there. I rolled down the window, rain hitting my face.

"What?" I yelled, trying to be heard over the roar of the wind.

I realised it was the same guy I had the staring contest with before. I groaned and wiped my face quickly. He walked over to me and I got a good look at him. Six foot something, he towered over me. His bronze hair looked messy and wet, but still good and his golden eyes shone brightly against his pale skin. He was without a doubt, the most handsome guy I'd seen. Ever. I swallowed hard.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and husky, "Are you okay?"

I tried to find my voice. My throat was raw from crying.

"I'm fine," I managed to say, my fingers clenched on my lap.

I saw him glance at my knuckles, bruised and bleeding from my attack on the steering wheel. I quickly covered them with my sleeves.

"I'm fine," I said again, clearing my throat and hoping to god I sounded normal.

He looked unconvinced.

"Okay," he said slowly, his eyes trailing up to my own, "If you say so."

"I say so," I said quickly turning on the engine. I couldn't be bothered staying for the rest of the day. I didn't want to risk another encounter with that girl. The numbness of my knuckles was fading and the throbbing pain was beginning to flare up. I tried to ignore it.

I glanced at him again. His eyes were piercing and they were still on me. I shifted and gunned the engine.

"You're leaving?" he asked, one eyebrow arched quizzically.

"Yep." I gazed forward, trying not to look at him and swiftly pulled out of the parking space.

"Hey listen," he called before I could take off.

I waited, interested to hear what he would say.

"That girl who said those things to you is Lauren. She's not a very nice person. You shouldn't listen to her."

I stared straight ahead. "Thanks," I murmured, "but it doesn't matter. It's true."

I heard him mutter something, but unable to make it out I drove out of the lot and kept driving, not lingering on the weird conversation I had just taken part in.

I drove straight home, forgoing my intentions of job hunting. I needed to be alone. Away from people, from Lauren, from that golden-eyed stranger who kept popping up, from school. From life.


End file.
